


The Matters of the Heart

by LippyLarry



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Depression, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Kinda not, M/M, Sassy Louis, Self-Harm, Shy Louis, Smut, Student Louis, Teacher Harry, Teacher-Student Relationship, kinda underage, maybe Zayn - Freeform, mentions of depression
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-05
Updated: 2015-12-06
Packaged: 2018-05-05 02:54:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5358332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LippyLarry/pseuds/LippyLarry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis hates Harry, honestly he does. Except sometimes he doesn't.</p><p>or AU where Louis remembers Harry but Harry doesn't remember him. And as much as Louis would love to ogle Harry everyday from the back of the classroom, he has actually got a class to pass. And if Harry could stop being so distracting and stop interfering with his life that would be great too.<br/>// I SUCK AT SUMMARIES OK I PROMISE IT'S NOT BAD//</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1 - The Second First Meeting

**Author's Note:**

> Heyy so this is my first fic so im kinda nervous.... but whey here it is. I hope you enjoy it and its everything you've ever wanted (is that weird?, probably weird) sorry i'll get on with it now. Thanks for reading!! :) xx

It wasn’t Louis’ fault, honestly it wasn’t. 

It’s just that the stuffy classroom is already uncomfortably humid but now it seems to be ten times hotter. The overhead projector is humming quietly above their heads and there’s bodies moving to get to their seats and a hushed whisper between a few of the girls. 

The room is brought to silence but the air is thick with sound, somewhere outside the building a loud truck passes and Louis is taken in by the noise because he needs to concentrate on anything other than Niall flicking his leg under the table trying to get his attention because, seriously, what has Louis ever done to deserve this.  
The air is thicker than it’s ever been now and Louis knows somebody’s speaking somewhere but he can’t bring himself to look away from him.   
Because there he is, front of the class, in all his green eyed glory. 

Harry Styles.

And suddenly Louis has to leave, no way is he going to sit hear a listen to Harry bloody Styles introduce himself whilst acting like he doesn't know who Louis is. Honestly he hasn't even spared a glance this way, and Louis has to get out, he can’t be in here another minute. 

He tries to leave, honestly he does, it’s just that his body seems to not be cooperating because his legs won’t move and he seems to be stuck in his chair because he can’t take his eyes off him. 

Dammit, Louis really hates him. 

See, the thing is Louis never forgets a face, especially not one as annoying, arrogant, and cocky as Harry’s, I mean seriously he thinks why is Harry even here?   
And oh this is why Louis is on report because he can’t fucking pay attention. Somehow its Niall’s fault Louis knows it is he just has to find out why. Oh yeah “come on Lou, English lit will be great” so there. Louis knows its Niall’s fault because he’s the one who dragged Louis to this God awful class in the first place.   
Louis is never doing anything Niall says again.   
But here he is, the back of English lit on a Monday afternoon, sweating, because Harry’s here, in this room. 

And he can’t do it he’s got to get out, right now. His hands are clammy and moist, and he is acutely aware of his hair and his looks, but he can’t breathe because the airs too thick in the room now and the hushed whispers are ringing louder in his ears now and he’s overcome by a want to run and leave and-

“Louis Tomlinson”

Harry’s deep voice sounds through the room sending shivers down Louis’ spine because it’s been so long since he’s heard Harry speak. And it sounds so different, so far away, he sounds like empty hallways and slamming doors. But at the same time he sounds like late night whispering and windy country lanes, and honestly Louis just doesn't want to be reminded of that and he just really wants to leave.

But he’s frozen. Physically he can’t move, mentally his mind is reeling because in those two words Louis’ whole life flashes In front of him. Full of parks, inside jokes, long summer nights of sneaking out and promises. Lots of promises.

“y-yes” shit, way to make a good impression Louis thinks. But Harry barely bats an eyelid. 

***  
Harry takes a deep breath after finishing the register because he can do this, he thinks as he gets out books from the cupboard and starts handing them out 

There’s a you can do this, you can do this, you can do this mantra playing in his head and of course he can do this. It’s just a bunch of 17 to 18 year olds its fine.  
“Good afternoon class, I’m your new teacher Mr Styles” 

Ok he can’t do this.

The words sound foreign, even to him and it feels wrong, like he shouldn't be saying them because that’s how he used to tease him. Suddenly Harry’s not so sure he can do this. But the class are staring up at him expectantly and Harry swallows down whatever feeling is rising up in his stomach and continues.   
“Now as a little warm up exercise I would like you to write a quote on the piece of paper on your desk so that I can get a good idea of how the whole class thinks, it can be anonymous or you can write your name at the top.”   
Now Harry has said it out loud what he wants them to do sounds lame, mentally Harry curses himself for giving a bunch of college students such an easy task. Harry himself feels weird about it, it was only a few years ago since he had been in a school not unlike this one studying the same course, before going to uni to study English as a degree. Realistically he knows it’s ridiculous to expect them to take him seriously when he’s only 21 but he had to get a job somewhere.   
Harry is pleasantly surprised when a number of students start to write straight away and so he keeps talking. “It can be your favourite quote, your least favourite, one your idol said, one your mum said, just one of the first ones that comes into your head”. Whist the class scribbles away Harry takes the chance to actually look at his students. There are of course the girls with too much make up on, the girls in hoddies, boys in leather jackets and boys in football jerseys, Harry has to look away. 

Once the class have finished Harry sets them their task of reading Atonement – a book very close to Harry’s heart – and lets them begin to read it for the rest of the lesson. Harry feels mildly good about how his first lesson has gone and mentally congratulates himself as he patrols the isles collecting the class’s exercise books. Once back to the front a loud voice with a thick Irish accent rings through the otherwise silent room.

“Are you actually going to read those quotes Mr Styles?” Harry glances at the seating plan to find out the name of the boy before replying.  
“Yes of course Mr Horan, why would you like to make any last minute changes?” Harry is slightly humoured by the outburst, and it becomes evident that Niall is embarrassed by the whole ordeal when he turns a light pink and mutters out a-  
“Yeah” Niall cheekily smiles at the teacher “better cross out the swearin in it sir”   
The class erupts into giggles and Harry chuckles to himself as well as he hands the boy his book back so he can cross out the swear words. But before Harry moves on he realises the boy nest to Niall hasn’t written anything in the blank piece of paper laid out in front of him.

“Come on, hurry up I need to collect them in” Harry really isn’t in the mood for anybody refusing to do their work, but the boys head remains down but his hands begin to fidget about as he manages to whisper out   
“I can t-think of any sir, sorry” and honestly Harry is so taken aback by the boys innocence that he almost tells him he doesn’t need to complete the task before he hears a loud scoff from Niall.  
“Hey, Mr Horan what was that for?” Harry scolds before Niall goes completely red from the noise he just made and yet another ripple of laughter through the students,  
“Tommo here’s a writer sir.” He states boldly “knows probably more quotes than the whole class combined sir” and Harry is so shocked by the outburst that he ends up just staring at the back of the brown haired boys head before kneeling down at the side of the desk to get the boys attention. But he still doesn’t look round.  
“Hey” he says softly, the boys slightly inclines his head towards harry but otherwise his eyes stay fixated on the desk. “What’s your name?” Louis breath is caught in his throat as he manages to rasp out   
“Louis, Louis T-Tomlinson” and he keeps his eyes staring straight down at the blank page before him knowing that if he looks up now he’s going to see those big green eyes he’s spent many nights trying to forget and he’s not sure if he’s ready to properly see them just yet.   
“Okay Mr Tomlinson, the writer that knows hundreds of quotes, why haven’t you written any quotes down?”

Louis knows why he hasn't written any quotes down, it’s because every single quote Louis has stored in his brain reminds him of Harry, and no way is he going to share any of those with him just yet.

“Just can’t pick one sir” He answers back bluntly. 

“Well you’ve got ten more minutes before the lesson ends and ill expect one by then.” Harry answers back slipping into his teacher voice. Louis just nods. 

By the end of the day when all the students have gone, Harry is flipping through the papers reading the quotes. There are some cheesy ones of course, such as “when life knocks you down, roll over and look at the stars” Harry snorts a bit at that one, then there’s the girls quoting Justin Bieber or Taylor Swift, but one quote stands out to him the most and it makes him wonder which one of his students wrote it.  
Harry leaves the school with the quote emblazoned on his brain.

“You made flowers grow in my lungs, and although they are beautiful, I can’t breathe”

Harry’s not sure what to do with that to be honest.


	2. Chapter 2 - To think of Love and Loss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry its short again, I swear the next one will be longer, pinky promise. I hope you enjoy it! :) xx

Harry assumes it’s a girl.

He knows that he’s being very stereotypical about the whole ordeal but he just assumes it’s a girl. He supposes it’s a quote one of them has read from Tumblr or Instagram, and so he forgets about the stupid quote.

Until he remembers the stupid quote.

He is lying in bed thinking. Just thinking. About tomorrow, about that assignment he’s going to set next week. He’s just finished reading is favourite book ‘Thin Walls’ , which he has already read multiple times, by Francis Thomas and he’s feeling very emotional, because the book likes to make him think about life and the future and it’s all very philosophical. So Harry is thinking and he just can’t get that quote out of his head. 

He goes over all the girls he can remember in his head but honestly he can’t imagine any of the girls writing it down.  
Then he remembers the writer boy Louis? Was it? Harry almost grimaces because of all the names in the world his had to be that? Harry tries not to mull it over to much. But he decides that there is no reason why the quote couldn’t have been written by Louis however this poses another question into Harrys mind what could possibly be wrong with that boy? 

It’s not like Louis doesn’t look fragile, because he does honestly that boy looks like the most innocent thing Harry has ever seen but, he looks tough it the thing. He looks like someone who has grown up way too quickly. 

And Harry could see him from the front of the class cracking jokes with Niall, but the smile never quite reached all the way to his eyes. Harry’s mind is reeling now as he is overcome with thoughts on how his is going to make Louis smile. Not fake smile – real smile. One that lights up his face as he laughs or brightens a room.  
Harry reckons he could do it.

***

And so Harry sets the task again.  
“But sirrrr” a random boy, Trevor was it? Whines from the back. “Why’d we have to do it again” he grumbles miserably.  
“Because I very much enjoyed reading your quotes last night and I would like you to write another. Problem?” Usually Harry wouldn’t raise his voice over such a simple thing but he lost so much sleep last night over that damn quote he just wants to get to the bottom of it. He also hasn’t as of yet figured out a way to get Louis to even look at him let alone smile.

It doesn’t help that Louis has been furiously scribbling on a scrap piece of paper for the last ten minutes, and hasn’t even taken the slightest notice in the world around him.  
The class is silent as he turns back to the board to finish writing down the task for the rest of the lesson.  
Suddenly loud laughter is heard from the class room and Harry drops the pen to see what all the fuss is about. The class quietens down into fits of giggles so Harry raises his voice asking what was going on.  
A girl, probably the class snitch raises her hand.   
“Please sir” she begins “He said you are a nerd who can’t get a bird sir” yep definitely the class snitch. And Harry follows her outstretched arm to where she is pointing at Louis.   
Harry is really not in the mood for this.   
“Mr Tomlinson?” Louis doesn’t look up but he moves his head as a sign of recognition. “Would you care to explain why the class is laughing?”   
“I don’t know sir” He says stubbornly   
“You’re a bright lad Mr Tomlinson, You’ll figure it out” Harry replied with the same amount of stubbornness “come on” Louis clears is throat before continuing.

“Well sir considering the fact that you are about 21 teaching a class of 18 year olds the wonders of Ian McEwan. It’s entirely fitting that you, the nerdy English teacher would like to read quotes on a Monday night before climbing into bed with your favourite John Green novel, which you wipe away your tears to, rather than going out to a party or indeed in this case to get a girl. Wow sounds like a wild life you lead sir” Louis refuses to call Harry Mr Styles. A flicker of something flies across his face when he mentions ‘girl’ because at the moment he’s not sure how Harry stands on the whole gay/bisexual thing. He smiles smugly and Harry anyway. The class is silent. Harry breaks it.  
“Well thank your Mr Tomlinson for sharing you basically summed up my life” Louis just smirks down at his desk.   
“Did I get it all right sir?” Louis grins wickedly from the back of the class Harry shakes his head.  
“No. Now class back to work” Louis sighs as he gets back to writing his quote down. Stupid Harry and his bloody quotes.  
After Louis’ outburst the class is harder to control as they feel like they can answer Harry back, its slightly irritating coming from other people whereas with louis he just found it mildly amusing.

*** 

Louis has never done that before.  
He’s never answered a teacher back. For any reason. Contrary to popular belief Louis is quiet in lessons and pays attention (most of the time). So for him to burst out with something like that is completely out of character for him, normal for Niall maybe, but unusual for him. It’s just that Harry really pushes his buttons. Maybe it’s the fact that Harry’s voice is too low and soothing, or that Harry uses hand gestures way to much when he speaks, or maybe it’s the fact that after all the days they spent together Harry can’t even remember him?   
Louis feels sick just thinking about it. He was so easily tossed aside, as if he meant nothing. Which in hindsight, Louis realises now that that’s probably true. He meant nothing.

***

As the class begins to pack up Harry calls Louis to stay behind. So here they are now Louis slowly packing his bag up as the last students meander out the door.  
“Now Mr Tomlinson. What you did today wasn’t very clever or brave, and in fact has earnt you a week’s detention.” Harry puts on his ‘I’m a proper teacher face’. Louis can almost hear the scowl in his voice. Louis doesn’t reply in fact he’d quite like to leave his scrap piece of paper is burning in his pocket and his fingers are itching to continue to write on it.  
Louis eyes are trained on the ground still as he sighs and makes towards the door but just as he is opening it Harrys voice cuts through the air again “Francis Thomas” Louis head snaps up so fast Harry thinks something’s wrong.

“P-pardon sir?” Louis stutters out. Because Francis Thomas? No way does Harry know about that author.   
“You said I wipe away my tears to John Green and I would like to correct you, John Green is a good writer, amazing even, But I don’t feel like he has anything on Thomas, he’s made me cry more times than I care to admit.” Apparently he does. Louis gulps. The air is thicker now and Louis feels like hes swimming in it. The room is blurred but he can see Harry perfectly. Huh that’s how it always was. 

Louis gravitated to Harry like an anchor, he could see every freckle on the man’s face and the hairs on his chin and in his hair without even trying Louis could see every crease in Harrys face. He could probably read every single one of the man’s expressions. 

The heat within the room increases, Louis tugs on his collar before shakily replying.

“How so sir?” Harry is struck by the boy’s uncomfortableness.   
“Um well I feel like Thomas may have more real life experiences with the events he writes about, For example he writes about his life and his love interests and his problems. Whereas Green writes books to please young teenagers. You’re a ‘writer’ yourself aren’t you? You should find out a bit about Thomas” Harry is even more surprised when Louis turns to face Harry and their eyes meet. But all he gets is a-  
“Oh, I know who he is Mr Styles”   
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Harry questions. 

“You’re a bright lad Mr Styles, you’ll figure it out” and he slips out the door before Harry can even reply. 

***

Louis runs home that day, desperate to get away from Harry. Desperate to forget the feelings he though had already gone. He hates him. He hates that he can just walk back like nothing’s happened, walk back and expect everything to be ok. Because it’s not ok.   
Louis’ not ok.

He cries himself to sleep that night like he has many a night before wondering why fate is trying to kill him, wondering if its just easier to end it all now.   
No one would care, no one would come. All that would be left would be an apartment full of memories, an unfinished book and an empty chair in the back of English literature. 

Harry wouldn’t even notice till he took the register. 

Maybe he’ll send Louis a letter asking him why he wasn’t in class, then after a few weeks he’ll go round to Louis apartment himself, where the door is open, waiting. He’ll enter without removing his shoes and whisper out a “Louis” into the cold silent apartment. Maybe he’ll find Louis in the empty bath tub covered in dried blood. Maybe he won’t.

Maybe he’ll leave. 

But what if he finds him.

Perhaps he’ll phone an ambulance – perhaps he won’t. If he did he’d know.

He’d know that on the way to the morgue - where he trails behind Louis lifeless body – when somebody gives him a clip board full of Louis. Louis’ birthday, Louis parents, Louis blood type, and he’d know that he was listed as Louis’ next of kin. Still. After all these years.

And maybe Harry will cry. Maybe he won’t maybe he won’t realise that the cold dead body lying two doors away from him is his Louis. Maybe Harry won’t go and see Louis one last time before they bury him, maybe he won’t kiss Louis on the head like he used to.

But maybe he will. Maybe he’ll know that this is his Louis, his lou. And he’ll cry because after all this time, the wait was useless. And his Louis is gone. 

And if weeks later when Harry is clearing out Louis apartment and he finds a box labelled ‘Harry’ he doesn't dare open it.

But when he does open it years later and finds an unfinished book filled with love and hurt and anguish. Maybe Harry will go exactly the same way Louis went.

The thought just makes the tears streaming down Louis face flow harder.  
***  
When Harry gets home he reads through the quotes and I unsurprised when he finds one much more detailed than the rest.

You read me like a book and when you had finished, then, and only then, did you decide you didn’t like the ending.

Harry’s a bit more lost than he was before.


	3. Chapter 3 - The First Detention

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> My nerd girl heart loves when Harry and Louis talk about books so I thought I'd indulge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OKAY I'm sorry but I love it when Harry and Louis talk about books so I thought I'd indulge myself xx (also a sligght hit as to what happened between Harry and Louis only suppper tiny though) also sorry for any mistakes and what not, i'm kinda tired. :P ALSO i'm going to try and make the next chapters longer hopefully....

Louis is an idiot. 

A complete utter total idiot.  
Infact the word idiot doesnt even cover it.  
The one thing Louis did not want was to spend time alone with Harry and now he has to do exactly that for an hour after school every day for a week. 

How is he supposed to cope? 

Niall obviously finds the whole ordeal quite hilarious and chants “you’re a nerd who can’t get a bird” all the way home.  
Louis has yet to tell him that it’s not exactly a “bird” he’s interested in...  
As Louis is very gay. 

When Louis gets back to his flat he feels sick.  
Niall walks half the way with him then they split into different directions. Whilst Niall goes back to his lovely big house where his parents will no doubt greet him at the door. Louis trudges back to his grey empty flat where he is met by the sound of silence.

Don't get him wrong, Louis loves Niall, and his parents, Its just that right now they're a bit to much for him to handle. They'll probably welcome Niall home and ask him how his day was, and laugh as he tells them a funny story. Then they'll relax together until dinner, and shortly after, they'll go to bed.  
Honestly it bored Louis half to death.   
Louis loves to remember noisy dinners full of laughter and shouting, but that's all over now there's no going back.  
He blares his music from his speakers and tries not to be too upset.

Louis doesn't have any work to do so he plugs his phone into the speaker and blasts out The 1975 as he writes. He writes poems mainly rubbishy 4 liners, but they don’t seem to flow as well as they did before Harry came back. Louis isn't sure how he feels about that.  
Writing for Louis was always a safe haven now Harry's come and disturbed that too.

See the thing is Louis loves writing, for him its an escape. It gives him a chance to create a whole new world where he can do whatever he wants, where he can make anything happen. Unfortunately since Harry came back he's done nothing but mope. The main character has got absolutely no personality and the heroin just doesn't have the right feel about her. 

Louis is stuck.

***  
Detention is shit.

Harry apparently hasn't set any work so Louis just has to sit there whilst Harry marks.

Honestly it wouldn't be so bad if it was any other teacher, it’s just that Louis is sitting in the front desk and he can see every flex of Harry’s arm as he’s marking and every eyebrow twitch when he finds a strange answer. It also doesn't help that Louis is fascinated by Harry’s lips and the way he bites his lip in concentration, hey Louis still hates him all right? and the way his mouth moves when he speaks – wait when he speaks?  
“Mr Tomlinson?” Louis snaps out of it. Dragging his eyes from where they are looking out the window, back to Harry. Louis has yet to look Harry in the eye yet. He tells himself its out of principle that he wont look at Harry but actually he's far to scared to even think about how he'll react when he sees Harry's eyes again.  
“Yes sir?” Harry just sighs. “Do you have any work?” Louis shakes his head no. “Right well then, I've just about finished and I wanted to know if you’d had a chance to look into Francis Thomas” And Louis can’t believe they’re back on this subject again. Seriously why is Harry so obsessed with the guy. Louis doesn't even think Thomas is that good of a writer.  
“Listen sir I understand he’s your idol and everything, but his books seem a bit shit to me” 

“Language” Harry scolds, Louis just rolls his eyes. It's strange Louis would never act this way with any other teacher but with Harry it just feels natural. “I don’t think you looking deep enough into his books Mr Tomlinson. Thomas’ work is proof that anyone can have a happy ending even if everything else is against you, it shows that even the most broken situations can be fixed”. Louis just scoffs.  
“I don't think that any book could possibly prove that sir” Harry just stares. when he doesn't speak again Louis continues. "See books aren't real right? They are made up, and I think as soon as you start to blur the line between reality and fantasy and start letting books become part of how you act and how you feel then I think they allow you to believe anything is possible when it isn't. Life is rubbish and people are rubbish and everybody leaves." And what? Louis barley registers the words coming out of his mouth, he can't believe he just said those things, to Harry of all people! And Harry can't move he feels physically sick because how can this boy, this young innocent boy possibly think so negatively about the world and himself. 

He reminds Harry of, well he reminds Harry of a young boy with bright blue eyes running up to Harry's room on a dusty autumn day with a brand new power ranger in his hand, telling him he’s going to call it curly “cos that’s what you are Haz curly, curly, curly” Harry remembers crying that day to, because his best friend, who only just started pre-school, is naming his favourite power ranger curly, after him. 

But Harry reckons anything could remind him of the young boy if he tried hard enough. He tries not to dwell on that.

And Harry wants to tell Louis how wrong he is about the world, and how he’s looking completely wrong at Thomas’ books but honestly he can’t form the words. and before his brain can catch up with his mouth he blurts out-  
“You remind me of someone I used to know” Louis head snaps up and their eyes meet.  
And if Harry's going to be completely honest with you, it’s exactly as cliché as its sounds in books because. Harry. Cannot. Breathe. 

Louis’ eyes are blue, so blue and the flecks of green in the middle seem to be even brighter, Harry could be lost. He wouldn't know, and if he's lost he wants to stay lost if this is what it feels like. He feels as though he’s swimming. Swimming in blue. 

On the other side of the room Louis is slowly breaking down. Because his vision is so full of Harry, Harry, Harry and his mind is screaming green, green, green. and Louis knows he's going to hate himself for staring so long at those eyes he vowed to forget but he can't. He can't look away. He feels as though he being pulled into a world where fairy tale endings exist and ladybirds play football and children can fall in love forever. But it all comes back to those green eyes that are fixated on Louis blue.

A whispered “Louis”echoes through the room. That’s all it takes for Louis to snap out of it grab his bag and dash out the door. Harry just stares after him because, what was that?

Harry mopes for the rest of the day and the next until he reads the quotes from the class. 

"I don’t care if the room was full of art why would I look at painted ceilings when I already know that the most beautiful colours are in your eyes."

Harry really is lost.


End file.
